Emotional Motion Sickness

Los Angeles songwriter Phoebe Bridgers is emailing me from Europe, riding in a van somewhere between Germany and the Netherlands. “I can see miles and miles of forest,” Bridgers writes, “and every once in a while a big open field.” It’s a lonely scene that sits nicely alongside Bridgers’ lonely music.

She is in Europe and will soon be in Eugene, supporting her solo debut, Stranger in the Alps, an album of sad and acoustic lo-fi indie music landing somewhere folksier than Elliott Smith but just this side of roots music.

Eugene audiences might recognize Bridgers. She performed with Portland folk-rockers Blitzen Trapper at an early tour stop the band made in town.

Bridgers admits she’s a lonely person, but she’s not sure she’s any more or less lonely than anybody else. “It’s hard to gauge how lonely I am,” she explains, “compared to the average person. But I’m getting better at finding comfort in it: reading, taking walks, listening to records.”

And that particular sense of isolation, along with Smith’s hyper-confessional style, permeates Alps.

In fact, Bridgers calls the late Portland songwriter’s catalog untouchable. “No one really comes close,” she says. “From the instrumentation to the lyrics to the way he recorded himself, it’s perfect.” Smith’s influence shows up elsewhere on Alps in the sweetly sad chord progression, harmonies and melodic structure of “Demi Moore,” a song whose sound owes just a little something to The Beatles.

Most of all, Bridgers is a storyteller. Over gently finger-picked acoustic guitar on album stand-out “Funeral,” Bridgers sings with raw veractiy: “Jesus Christ, I’m so blue all the time.”

“Funeral” is about an experience we all have sooner or later: attending the funeral of someone our own age, bringing down that youthful sense we’re all going to live forever. “I’m singing at a funeral tomorrow,” Bridgers sings on the track, “for a kid a year older than me.”

She explains the song’s backstory: “A series of strange events led to me singing at a stranger’s funeral, and the experience made me confront my depression.”

Despite her dark subject matter, Bridgers recalls the innocent teen-pop idol Hilary Duff helping her discover a love for music. “I wanted to be her when I was a kid,” Bridgers says. “I wanted a headset microphone and a dress that turned into a pantsuit.”

Performing with Bridgers in Eugene is Noah Gundersen. He’s touring behind his latest release White Noise, an album of earnest, extroverted anthems. Gundersen’s clenched-jaw American rock vocals sound a little like Ryan Adams when Adams does the ’80s, but also a little like Bryan Adams’ own 1980s heyday.

Like Bridgers, Gundersen expresses big emotions, but over electric guitars and big sweeping, almost U2-like moods, he aims for the horizon. Bridgers feels content to sing the four walls of her bedroom as metaphor for her mind and her own claustrophobia.

Noah Gundersen and Phoebe Bridgers perform 9 pm Friday, Nov. 10, at Hi-Fi Music Hall; $15, all-ages.

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.

None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.

Thank you for standing with us!